Who shall hear my children when they cry?
by goolcaptain
Summary: The TurokHan has captured Buffy. Who can save her now? NOT who you might think....


Another happy sequal to one of Jimmy Orthancs most disgusting fics

Who shall hear my children when they cry?

"Buffy"

"Hello Mom"

"You have to go back, honey"

"But I'm so tired mommy. And it hurts, it hurts so badly. I want to stay here with you"

"You know you can't. You know they need you, Dawn, your friends, everyone. My little girl won't let me down, will she?"

"Promise me I'll see you again"

"I promise. We'll all be together someday. I love you"

"I love you mom"

"You know what to do?"

"I know"

She'd stopped breathing.

The Turok-Han looked at Buffy with concern. The First would be angry if he had killed her, he could easily have finished her before but it had insisted on taking her alive, that she had to die last to finish the Slayer line once and for all. Now he looked at her, chained to the wall, limp, naked, unmoving. He wondered if his repeated torture had killed her, if his violence had been too much for her body to withstand?

He stooped in close and raised her head. He barely registered her hand ripping the buckle from his tunic before the pain from his groin shot through his body. By the time he comprehended what she had done she was already spitting it onto the floor, making her choke slightly as she inhaled a wonderful, life restoring breath of stale dank air after holding her breath for so long.

He tried to scream but her teeth were already gnawing their way through his throat, her legs scissored around his waist, his hands trapped in her chains which she had wound around his wrists. His last thought was that this was impossible. That no Slayer could possibly do this.

But then Buffy Summers was not a Slayer.

She was THE Slayer.

The omega.

The last guardian of the hellmouth.

Chosen.

Dawn's sister.

Joyce and Hank Summers' little girl.

When he was dust she used the buckle to pick the lock on her chains. Then she went to look for Spike.

"Xander, Willow, take care of Spike, we need him back in the game asap. There's plenty of pig's blood in the fridge, that should be a good start. Kennedy, get the girls training, they need the practice if we're going to fight more of these things. Anya, Giles, research" She motioned to the Turok-Han dust she had dumped on the floor to make her point "Andrew, hoover that up. Dawn, with me now!"

They jumped to it as Buffy strode purposefully up the stairs, Dawn trailing behind her, curious as to what her assignment would be. When they were in Buffy's bedroom she instructed Dawn to lock the door behind them which peaked her curiosity even further.

Buffy let the Bringer's robe fall from her shoulders to reveal her naked body underneath. Dawn gasped in horror as Buffy turned around to face her, her eyes staring in mute shock at the terrible scars and bruising that seemed to cover every inch of her sisters' skin. Dawn didn't know whether to retch or cry.

"H-hold me" Buffy managed to plead before fainting into Dawn's arms.

Dawn laid her down on the bed and covered her with a blanket. She stripped off to her underwear and slipped in beside her, holding her as tightly as she could without aggravating her injuries. She kissed her on the cheek.

"It's ok Buffy, I'm here, they won't hurt you any more, I won't let anyone hurt you ever again"

In her heart she knew the words were a lie, that she would never be able to keep this promise. Tomorrow Buffy would be healed again. Dawn would bathe her carefully and fix her hair and makeup and she would walk downstairs, the Slayer once more, ready to face all the evil and violence the First could throw at her as if her terrible ordeal had never happened. Such was the life of the chosen one.

But tonight she was plain Buffy Summers and would rest safe in her sister's arms. And Dawn would kill ANYTHING that would try to ruin this moment.

Buffy's facial expression softened visibly as she slipped from unconsciousness into a normal, peaceful sleep. Dawn closed her eyes and lay there for what seemed like hours, listening to the wonderful sound of her sister's steady breathing, revelling in the shared warmth of their bodies. Eventually she joined Buffy in a deep, dreamless slumber, the skin beneath her tender embrace restoring itself at an accelerated rate due to Buffy's Slayer healing powers, their hearts beating as one.

Joyce's apparition stood unseen by their bedside, watching over her sleeping children throughout the night. For in extremis we all cry out to our creator, God or mother, it matters not which.

At daybreak Joyce faded away to nothingness.

But her love for her daughters extended far beyond the grave.


End file.
